30 Miles Away
by fantasyxfreeme
Summary: “Did you know that the human eye is so keen that if you had ideal conditions, like complete darkness and no fog or obstacles, you could see a single lit candle from 30 miles away?” Mitchie/Mikayla fluff. Femmeslash, femslash, either one.


**Mmkay well...written at 3 AM! Random mitchie/mikayla (and totally NOT demi/selena *cough*) fluff. Hope you like it :]]**

**Mitchie Torres and Mikayla (Insert last name here) are owned by Disney and not me. I promise. Concept of brain ninjas owned by comedian Dane Cook.**

Mitchie POV

FLASHBACK

_"Okay, Mickey, truth or dare?" I asked, laughing. We were camped out in her living room, trading silly questions as a storm raged outside. _

_"Truth," Mikayla said immediately._

_"Chicken," I teased, sticking my tongue out._

_Mikayla said nothing, but grinned and told me to ask the question._

_"Alright. What is the ideal way for someone to ask you out?" I asked._

_She didn't spend more than two seconds thinking. In fact, I don't think she really had to think about it at all. She already knew. "Candles. They would have a candle next to them, and they'd sing me a song, and then tell me how they felt and ask me to go out with them."_

_I laughed, shaking my head. "You're such a hopeless romantic, Mickey. You might as well say 'For me to be stumbling through a dark field where I can't see anything, and all of a sudden I come upon my true love, Fabio, holding a candle in his bare hands, his long hair fluttering in the wind.'" I said sarcastically._

_"Actually," Mikayla started. "Did you know that the human eye is so keen that if you had ideal conditions, like complete darkness and no fog or obstacles, you could see a single lit candle from 30 miles away?"_

END FLASHBACK

It started with that statement from my best friend, Mikayla. She always did have the most random facts logged away up in her mind. It's true of course, and pretty cool, but that doesn't mean it's any less random. In fact, that one sentence from her saved me. She was always putting things in my head that made me eventually have to re-think my life. It could be minutes, hours, days, even weeks after she made the comment, and suddenly it'd just blow up in my head.

Sometimes I think Mikayla's a brain ninja. More on this theory later.

On the day my story takes place, we spent most of our time in our field. Well, it's not really our field but we spend so much time in it that it might as well be. There's a small playground on its outskirts with some swings and a slide and a teeter-totter, and the rest is just pure grass. It's October and the grass is all brown. I don't mind though I think the dead flora and fauna enhances the look of it. It's surrounded by trees on one two if its sides, and houses on the other two. Mikayla and I have been coming here to just be since we first met when we were 7.

It was cloudy today, and slightly windy. Not many kids were at the playground, most likely due to the weather. Mikayla and I walked to the swings and each of us sat down on one. We were currently discussing memories.

"…And then we brought Spot home and begged to keep him! I still don't know how we would've had joint-custody over a dog when we weren't living together," I laughed.

"Spot would live with me Monday-Thursday and with you Thursday-Monday! DUH!" I said, laughing as well.

"Can't believe that stupid dog got caught in the fence after being on my property for a grand total of seven minutes. It took us two sticks of butter to get him out! And when we did he got all freaked out and hid under the bushes for 45 minutes and by the time we pulled him out of _there_, he was all covered with sticks and dirt from the butter!" Mikayla continued.

"Maybe it was a _good_ thing for our mom's not to let us keep him. We must be awful parents!" I chuckled.

She opened her mouth as if I had offended her. "It's not _my _fault Spot was a numbskull."

I did nothing but shake my head, smiling, and we continued swinging lightly for a few silent minutes, just content to be in each other's presence.

"I think I'm going to break up with Nate," Mikayla said thoughtfully. It was a sudden statement, though she said it with a soft smile and a bored, distant tone.

I did a double-take. "Huh?!" was all I could get out. Was she serious? Was this _finally_ happening?

I know what you're thinking. "Wow, Mitchie, what a great and supportive friend you are." Trust me, I know I'm awful. Truth is, there's something I haven't said about me and Mikayla. You see, I'm head-over-heels in love with her. And while I want her to be happy, I was never truly satisfied with her and Nate's relationship. Most likely because I'm selfish and want her to be happy with me.

"I'm just..." Mikayla started with a sigh, "There's nothing between us. Well, maybe there is for him, but there's not for me. I don't feel anything but friendship when I'm around him. And I thought that'd be enough, that I'd just learn to like him. But I never could."

I could barely breathe, I was so happy. She never even liked him? _And_ she's going to break up with him? This is the best day ever. "Mik…" I started in a fake apologetic tone. "You gonna be okay?"

She looked back up at me, smiling. "Yeah. I don't know if Nate is, but I'm okay. And I'm going to be okay."

I nodded, not really knowing how to continue. We sat in silence once again, but it still wasn't uncomfortable.

"What about you?" Mikayla asked finally.

I looked up at her. "What _about_ me?" I asked back, chuckling.

She laughed as well. "How are things going with you and Shane?"

Inwardly I rolled my eyes. I'd never actually gone out with him. He's the only one that knows I'm in love with Mikayla. We have a fake relationship going for the sake of the press, as well as both of our personal sakes. He's actually gay, and I'm the only one that knows. We save each other a lot of heartbreak and confusion, and all it costs us is going to dinner at a fancy place to hang out every once in a while so that the press can "catch us on a date".

"Things are going well," was all I could say. I looked away from her gorgeous face. I could never lie to her, especially not when I was looking into her eyes. The eyes that can see right into my soul.

"Mitchie," she said suddenly and seriously. I looked back up at her once more.

"Mikayla?"

She bit her lip and clasped her hands together, two things she did when she was nervous. God she was so cute sometimes! Her eyes met the ground once more in doubt, before coming back up to mine in a solid resolve.

The sun came out momentarily, hitting the both of us and our surroundings, though she was all I could actually see. It struck her just so, off the shoulder, making her entire being sparkle. I felt my mouth close and dry up. She reached up and slipped a few lose hairs behind her left ear.

Did I mention how cute she was? Screw it, she's gone from cute to breathtakingly gorgeous.

Woah. When'd she get this close to me. Somehow I'd missed her scooting closer and closer. We were almost touching now. I felt like the entire world had stopped just for us. The sun held, the silence held, no one was around. It _must_ have stopped for us.

Our lips came together in almost a dream. She pressed hers timidly against mine, as I inhaled her scent from the closest position I _ever_ had before. My mind was in shock, this was so incredibly unexpected. My eyes finally fluttered closed as my body kicked my mind out of control (it was completely useless at this point) and took over. As I was about to kiss back, she pulled apart sharply.

Tears were forming in her eyes, spilling down her perfectly smooth cheeks. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. Did she think my lack of kissing was rejection?

She stood quickly, muttering stupid excuses that neither of us could process, and began backing away from me. Finally, her brain seemed to latch onto a phrase that was useable, and kept going with it.

"I'm sorry, Mitchie, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry…Mitchie I'm sorry." She mumbled and mumbled as she furiously wiped oncoming tears from her eyes to no prevail.

"Mikayla-" I started, trying to explain.

She didn't stay to listen, though I wish she had. The brokenhearted pop star turned on her heel and ran. She sprinted away like I'd never seen her sprint before.

"Mikayla, wait!" I cried after her. I didn't even run, I knew I wouldn't catch her. "I LOVE YOU!"

Nothing. The figure in the distance didn't stop running. The thunder on the horizon didn't stop roaring. And my poor, confused heart didn't stop breaking.

**-SF-SF-SF-SF-SF-SF-SF**

_Mikayla POV_

I can't believe it. Why. Why did I do something so incredibly stupid?! Why didn't I think?! I just latched on to that one stupid sliver of fake hope and rode it all the way down.

As I came crashing into my house, I was incredibly grateful no one was home to look at me. Tears were rushing down my face uncontrollably, smearing my mascara. I was breathing in ragged gasps both from sobbing and the run here. My hair was mussed and windswept, and to top it all off, it had started raining when I was halfway home, and I was soaked.

I staggered up to my room, throwing my wet clothes on the floor of my room. I managed to get myself into the warm shower. Breath returned to my body, as did warmth. Feeling, however, of anything, didn't come back.

I stepped out of the shower fifteen minutes later, dried off, and got dressed into my pajamas. It was only 7:30, but I sure as hell wasn't going anywhere else today. I walked into my room and flopped lifelessly onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

/?/?/?/?/?/?/?/?

My mom walked into my room 3 hours later. If she'd been around when I first came in, she'd know that she had just found me in the same position I was back then. I was lying on my back, staring at the ceiling. It was dark now, but I hadn't bothered to turn any lights on. The moon and streetlamps outside were enough for me.

"Mikayla?"

I didn't turn to look at her.

"Honey are you alright?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My voice would probably tremble uncontrollably.

"What is it?"

"Sick," I choked out.

My mom nodded, and I felt the bed sink down on my right as she sat. I still didn't look at her. Instead, I closed my eyes in a sad attempt to make it all go away. "Mitchie came by a few minutes ago."

My eyes snapped open, and my head lifted so that I could see her. "What did she want?" I managed.

"She just wanted me to give this to you." In my mom's hands was a small envelope. It was purple with blue lace attached to the sides and the opening flap. My two favorite colors. I took it gingerly, as if it were made out of tissue.

My mom, sensing she was no longer needed, stood and left my room again, closing the door as she went.

I breathed in, before peeling open the envelope. Inside was a piece of paper, folded twice. I unfolded it, and read the message. It was written in calligraphy with a black fountain pen, and signed _Mitchie_ at the bottom.

_Mikayla,_ it said, _I hope you decide to read this. If you decide that you want to see me again, I'll be waiting in Our Field tonight. Midnight. I won't be at the playground, but you'll find me. _

I read it four more times. Her note revealed nothing. I still had no idea how she was feeling about me, or what was going on. But I knew exactly where I had to be at midnight.

/?/?/?/?/?/?/?/?/

I glanced at my watch as I walked. It was a nervous habit of mine that I really wish I could stop. It read 11:57. It wasn't easy climbing down the side of my wall from the second floor of my house, but Mitchie was worth it. I saw the park coming up in front of me. My eyes wandered towards the playground, where we usually were, but remembered Mitchie's note. She wasn't there.

I scanned the field next to it, but still didn't see her. I kept walking, onto the actual brown grass this time, and stopped. I scanned again. Nothing. I felt my heart fall. Maybe she changed her mind and doesn't want to see me.

I scanned the area one more time and was turning to go when something caught my eye. A flicker. I stopped, and focused my vision on it. It was a small orange flicker. "What in the world…?" I murmured. My feet began moving to carry me there.

The orange flicker was in the very middle of the field. I barely saw it. But with each step I took, my vision increased. I kept walking, and when I was about 30 feet from it, I saw her. I made out her silhouette, and everything around her.

Mitchie Torres sat on a black stool in the middle of our field. Her hands were cupped around a single, lit candle. A smile played on her face as she soothingly hummed the tune to my favorite song.

I smiled as well, and continued walking to her. I stopped when we were an arm's length apart. She smiled widely, and got off her stool, still holding her candle with one hand. The other reached out for mine. Our fingers intertwined.

"You saw my candle," she said softly, staring into my awestruck eyes.

"It wasn't quite 30 miles," I murmured.

"Must you ruin everything?" she whispered.

Our lips met, our eyes closed, and the candle quietly blew out.


End file.
